"In the Vale of Grasmere, by the side of the old high-way
leading to Ambleside, is a gate which, time out of mind, has been
called the Wishing-gate."
Having been told, upon what I thought good authority, that this
gate had been destroyed, and the opening, where it hung, walled
up, I gave vent immediately to my feelings in these stanzas. But
going to the place some time after, I found, with much delight, my
old favourite unmolested.